By Preç Zogaj

With his triumphant return to the White House, President Trump is shaking up the international status quo of friendships, hostilities, alliances, blocs, trade, and borders. So much so that, to describe the consequences of this storm, many European media outlets have recently cited a phrase attributed to Lenin: “There are decades where nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen.”

Sensational by the standards of what America has accustomed the world to over at least a century, Trump’s actions were foreshadowed in his election campaign. Even if they were not always this explicit—such as the idea of relocating the Palestinian people from Gaza to other countries, approaching a long history of bloodshed and struggle for Palestinian self-determination with a so-called real estate philosophy.

Or take the reversal of the narrative on Russia’s military aggression against Ukraine—one that downplays the aggressor’s responsibility and, astonishingly, shifts blame onto the victim. Like the fable of the wolf and the lamb. This shocks our knowledge of the facts and goes beyond the usual verbal concessions meant to pave the way for peace talks with Russia.

As a superpower, the U.S. is expected to take the lead. Not only is it expected, but its leadership is actively sought by its friends and allies. No European country has ever questioned this. The U.S. has historically exercised its leadership in close coordination with NATO allies and the world’s democracies. The broad alliance that rallied behind Ukraine against Russia’s unprovoked aggression was formed under President Biden’s leadership. This support, combined with Ukraine’s heroic resistance, has prevented Putin from turning the country into another Belarus—a satellite of Moscow.

No one wants war. Least of all a country bombarded day and night by the Russian arsenal, counting its dead every morning: children, the elderly, men, women. Peace has been sought and pursued long before Trump came to power. A peace based on Ukraine’s right to exist as an independent, sovereign state, governed by the will of its own citizens.

Trump raised hopes by declaring that ending the war in Ukraine was a priority for his presidency. He has significant advantages in achieving a peace deal with Russia—above all, his good relations with Putin. No reasonable person would dismiss such an effort. Yet, due to poor coordination, the unilateral nature of his moves, or for reasons unknown, his actions have triggered anxiety and doubt—both in Kyiv, as the attacked party, and in EU countries that have strongly backed Ukraine.

The culmination of these concerns was yesterday’s scene in the Oval Office, where Trump and Vice President Vance engaged in a tense exchange of words with their guest, President Zelensky—a moment unlike anything seen before.

What Comes Next?

How will U.S.-Ukraine relations evolve? Will the U.S. continue supporting Ukraine? Will Kyiv have a seat at the table in any hypothetical peace talks with Russia—if such negotiations are still on the agenda?

Beyond that: What will U.S.-Europe relations look like, given Trump’s open contempt for the EU, which he portrays as a structure designed to take advantage of America?

Could Trump’s America drift toward strategic alliances with autocratic powers like Russia and China, pursuing some phantom vision of a new Yalta or a tripolar world order with designated spheres of influence?

What is the fate of democracy in the illiberal, realpolitik-driven world that Trumpism promotes?

Could the United States itself, rather than investing in making Russia more democratic, slide into becoming a billionaire-run autocracy?

These are pressing questions—unthinkable just a year ago. The answers are beginning to take shape in Europe’s determined efforts to maintain a close strategic partnership with the U.S. and to strengthen internal cohesion in defense and economic growth. A continent with a larger population than the U.S. and Russia combined, Europe is now awakening to its responsibilities.

No Second Yalta

Despite apocalyptic forecasts, we can say this much:

First, there will be no Yalta 2.0. There is no parallel to the February 1945 conference between Roosevelt, Stalin, and Churchill, where the victorious Allies shaped the post-World War II order. There is no historical context for it, and—at least in my view—no one in Washington or Moscow is contemplating such a scenario.

Second, unlike Russia, whose history is marked by centuries of servitude—as the great Russian writer Vasily Grossman put it—the United States was founded as a democracy. It became a global superpower because of its democratic principles. As such, it cannot escape its own destiny. Illiberalism may graft itself onto democracy for a time, introducing new trends, but it cannot fundamentally alter its nature. The U.S. has elections, an independent judiciary, and press freedom. Even Trump and his administration actively promote press freedom—this was the central theme of Vice President Vance’s speech at the Munich Conference just days ago.

Third, U.S.-Europe relations are unlikely to suffer an irreversible crisis. America and Europe are like two wings of the same body. Europe is strong with the U.S., and the U.S. is strong with Europe. Both would lose immensely without each other. Europe has acknowledged its willingness to discuss trade imbalances that Trump has called unfair. The EU has formally committed to purchasing more American energy—especially liquefied natural gas—and weapons. European leaders like French President Macron, British Prime Minister Starmer, Polish President Duda, and others have rushed to meet with Trump, pleading for the transatlantic partnership to remain intact. Meanwhile, Germany’s incoming chancellor, Friedrich Merz—a staunch Europeanist—has warned of “potentially very negative scenarios” if ties weaken. However, we must wait for him to assume office and outline his vision for a stronger Germany and Europe.

Trump’s threats, if nothing else, have shaken Europe out of its complacency—out of the assumption that the U.S. would forever guarantee its security while it enjoyed favorable economic exchanges. Beyond the rhetoric and theatrics that are Trump’s signature, the only real “new order” emerging from this moment is Europe’s realization that it must take responsibility for its own future.

To borrow another analogy, the Kabuki theater of Japan is being invoked these days—a performance where actors wear masks of ruthless figures, but no real blood is spilled. “We must begin deciphering this man’s rituals,” suggests Corriere della Sera, “Donald Trump’s theater.”

From Albania—our small yet significant place in this vast geopolitical stage—we hope it is just that: theater. A calculated performance to push Europe into spending more on defense and increasing its economic reliance on the U.S. What we do not want to see is a U.S.-Europe collision course. We do not want to be forced into choosing sides.